Worm: My Great Grandpa Kratos
by konamikode
Summary: In a world where parahumans rule, mythology was but an afterthought. A period of time where fairy tales were taken as literal lessons, and the fictitious gods of mankind walked the sagas. All until Kratos, the fabled Greek God of War, fell with an unstoppable fury upon Behemoth with impossible power and took his name. But for Taylor Hebert, he is just her ancient parahuman grandpa.
1. 0x Interlude Danny

Worm: My Great Grandpa Kratos

* * *

Prologue: Memories

0.x Interlude (Danny)

* * *

 _My heart thumps loudly in my chest, drowning my ears with the rush of blood and my trembling fingers with a hot burst of adrenaline that skews the aim of my arrow. The old wood creaks ominously and the glistening bowstring that catches the light of the sun loosens slightly as I lose my nerve and relax my aim minutely._

 _A large hand gently places itself against my shoulder, not obstructing my aim but aiding it as another arm guides my bow with a soft touch._

" _Relax. Do not think of it as an animal." Dad whispers in the early morning fog and I find myself gaining both strength and will from the well of confidence he draws into his voice._

" _It is simply a target. Clear your mind."_

 _My arms steady and the tremors cease._

" _Feet solid. Steady yourself."_

 _I find my balance, once more pulling back the bowstring to my cheek._

" _Exhale and release."_

 _I loose and the arrow soars through the air. The buck takes no notice of the projectile until it's already buried deep into its chest._

 _With nothing more than a startled cry, it leaps forward as my heart does the same to jump into my throat when it collapses with nary a whimper and stills with one final breath-_

" _I got him Dad! I got him!"_

" _Great job Danny!" Dad said with a grin. His eyes crinkled kindly as he patted my back, pulling the scars over his cheekbone in the familiar way I've always known. "With a little more work you'll be as good as me with that bow one day!"_

 _In the shade of a tree behind us, a tall and muscled form approaches, amusement dancing in the eyes accompanied by the slightest twinge of a lip hidden by a great brown beard peppered in gray._

" _If I recall correctly boy, you missed the first time we went hunting together. Nor did you kill the deer so cleanly." Grandpa walked forward with his hands clasped behind his back, nodding in my direction. "You have talent for this Daniel. It seems your father has taught you well."_

" _Ugh. Father, please. Don't listen to your grandfather son, he lost his mind_ _ **ages**_ _ago. Go on now. We'll be with you in a minute." Dad rolls his eyes and stands, stretching languidly as the sun catches over his dark hair to turn it red in the light._

" _Okay Dad! And thanks Grandpa!" I said, eager to check my first kill and continue the 'boys only' camping trip Dad and I had been going on since I was a little kid._

 _This year was special. I was too young to remember Grandpa the first time he visited, but this year he invited my family to join him in Alaska for my 'blooding' hunt._

 _He was crazy old school, but man was he the cool kind of old!-_

* * *

"Dad?" My daughter mumbled, looking up blearily with the same green eyes I had.

Sitting over the hospital bed I leaned forward to gently place a hand over her gown covered shoulder with a smile I barely had the strength to make.

"Hey Kiddo. It's good to see you." I said softly to Taylor, brushing away wisps of dark curly hair that reminded me so much of Anne's.

 _I wish you were here Dad. You'd know what to do_.

 _Be strong enough to hold it together unlike me._

"Excuse me? Sir? Sir! You cannot go in there!"

… _here we go Danny._

"I will go where I please. Remove yourself lest I do so in your stead."

"H-hey! You can't just-"

Without another word the door to Taylor's hospital room opens just as I'm halfway out of my chair with a weary sigh.

"Daniel." Grandfather greets me with a curt nod, completely disregarding the PRT officer doing their best to physically restrain him from entering the room.

It doesn't do much as he continues to walk forward until we are standing face to face.

"Grandfather… hey." I mumble, barely able to look up into the taller man's eyes without glancing away. "You didn't have to come all the way to Brockton…"

"Daniel." His powerful voice booms and resonates deeply throughout the room even with the softening of his tone and the firm clasp of a scarred hand over my shoulder. "It is fine. In place of your father it is my duty to be here and see to the health of my great granddaughter."

My grandfather, Kratos Tispartis leans forward with narrowed eyes.

To anyone else it would be intimidating, frightening even to be looked down upon by the tattooed, scarred gaze of a man who has seen far too much conflict in his life. Where they would find disapproval and borderline murderous intent, I see the emotion behind a man who has spent countless years carefully shielding himself from the world.

I see _warmth_. _Concern_.

 _ **And a furiously smoldering ember of anger ready to be lit by a stray spark**_.

"Go. Refresh yourself and return. I will stand guard in your absence." He commands, walking forward and out of the grasp of the confused orderly who looks at the back of the hulking figure calmly walking towards my daughter's bed and back at me with a bedraggled expression.

"It's fine, we're related." I say with a soft sigh and smiling sardonically at the shorter, _smaller_ cop who stands at a good 6'3.

Looking backwards as I guide the blinking officer back outside, I see that Grandfather has already made himself comfortable in the too small chair next to Taylor's bed.

"Hello Taylor." He says softly, gently placing a hand that I've seen crush boulders to dust over hers and cradling it against the sheets.

"Hey Grandpa. Lookin good." She croaks and coughs as the giant man barely constrained by mortal flesh carefully helps her up and holds a cup of water topped with a straw below her chin.

"Hmph. And you look like a dragon decided to step on you." He replies flatly as Taylor choked on her water. "You are not dead however. I take it you at least remembered one of my lessons?"

"Er… yeah Grandpa. I did my best but it's not like you ever taught me how to kill _regenerating_ dragons like Lung…"

"This… _**Lung**_. He is a parahuman yes? Tell me where I can find him so that we may speak-" Grandfather's voice trails off as I close the door behind me.

I move away towards the bathroom and nearby vending machines and leave the PRT agent who had attempted to stop my Grandfather to his partner who had _immediately_ grabbed him by the collar and dragged him down to her level.

" _ **Jameson**_ , _**what the fuck were you thinking!?**_ " She gasped wide eyed, furiously shaking the taller man like a ragdoll. " _ **Don't you know who that was!? That's was Kratos the motherfucking Behemoth!"**_

"W-wha-?"

" _ **End bringer of Endbringers! The guy that killed the original Behemoth and took his name and head! The man who bitch slapped Leviathan so hard Kyushu sunk! The monster who made the Simurgh scream and flee in terror with upon his arrival! The-"**_ The woman screamed ever louder, frothing at the mouth until another group of nearby agents barely managed to pry the manic officer off of her partner.

I walked faster, doing my best to hunch lower and get away from the spectacle.

"Danny? What's going on?" Anne is barely able to blink as she turns the corner and I hurriedly marshal her away from Taylor's room. "Danny?"

"Grandfather's here. Dad couldn't keep him away." I grunt, wondering not for the first time if Dad _purposefully_ let work in DC pile up so he didn't have to deal with another city full of villains growing past the bare minimum he needed to keep his job.

Some head of PRT he is.

 _God of Tricks and Mischief is right._

My wife gulps loudly, leaning her weight against me and patting me comfortingly on the back.

"Oh. Uh. How… is he…?"

"There won't be an ABB anymore after the day is over honey."

* * *

AN: You can look me up on forums dot sufficientvelocity dot com for faster updates complete with music, data files, and omakes :3

Check me out on pa treon dot com / konamikode if you wanna help support me~


	2. Chapter 1

Arc 1: Epics

1.01

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"Grandpa… how many times do I have to tell you that you _**are a parahuman**_?" I grumble in an exasperated huff when he snorts to himself with that ' _Foolish granddaughter. You will one day see the wisdom in my words as your father and his father before him have before you.'_ raised eyebrow.

Grandpa Kratos is a very expressive person!

You just… need to learn how he communicates with grunts and tiny, _tiny_ changes to his expression.

"Of course. As you say Taylor." He hums and agrees in that noncommittal way adults do to agree to disagree with teenagers and younger kids.

Grandpa, please. You may be the oldest living parahuman from a forgotten age, but as a man who lived in ancient Greece, shouldn't you be more receptive to the ideals of science, learning, and progress!?

I continue to press forward, refusing to give ground! "But you _are a parahuman_! By your own accounts with the _History Channel documentary, Ares: Fact or Fiction?_ You knew _dozens_ of people with superpowers! You may _possibly_ be the son of the ancient parahuman known as _**Zeus**_ , but it's well known that parahumans have a higher chance to trigger in families who already have powers! There are no such things as _**Gods and Goddesses!**_ That's just how ancient cultures explained the source of people's powers!"

It isn't much of an argument I know, but I don't exactly have a history or science degree. It's more about me butting heads with the immovable Mt. Kratos.

Not that I've ever been able to push Grandpa Kratos that way, but like Grandpa Atreus told me, sometimes it's the only way to get through his father's thick skull.

Unsurprisingly, I have little success to show this time either.

"Because I killed them all granddaughter." He explains patiently, just as he has since I was a little girl. "As I have explained to you in great detail, they were… tyrannical dictators of the highest order with no regard for the lives of the people they claimed dominion over."

Somehow it still feels like he is awkwardly patting my head even if I'm too old for him to do so now. Or so Grandpa seems to realize as he pulls his hand back to his side.

"That's not what I meant and you know it." I grumped, folding my arms across my chest and looking away with a petulant pout.

"Indeed. It appears you have yet to quench the hot blood running in your veins that you may listen to proven wisdom." The ancient parahuman tilts his great bearded lip upwards to show that he's only _mostly_ joking at my expense.

A moment passes between us, the wind ruffling the curtains as I sneak an abashed glance towards the arguably most powerful person in the whole world.

"I didn't get stepped on."

"No?"

"And I didn't _lose_. It was a _draw_."

"Mhm."

"In fact, it was more like I _won_!"

"Oh?"

"Yeah! I got _**really angry**_ because Lung wouldn't stay down so I _**hit him really hard**_ and sent him flying over the city! And apparently he didn't come back…" My voice lowers to a tiny whimper when Grandpa's expression changes into something vaguely alarmed at my description. "... uh… or so the PRT guys tell me? I kinda… uh… _fell asleep_ after the _**red haze**_ faded…"

"You were not born frail. Nor did you grow sickly. Yet you do not believe yourself… _**know yourself**_ to be a Goddess. How…?" My dumb old grandpa barely notices the desperate slap on his shoulder to get him to _shut up_.

Me? A goddess? I'm not _that pretty_! Emma's _way_ prettier than me!

"H-how many times do I have to say it! I'm a parahuman! You were _**there**_ when I triggered!" I stumble over my words, hiding my face in my hands with an embarrassed groan.

Please Grandpa Kratos. Dad's Dad already embarrasses me enough with his doting. Please, please, _please_ don't you start doing it too.

"Ah. I see." Grandpa hums to himself, _**finally**_ coming to the understanding that I'm not whatever hocus pocus medicine woman thing he learned about when people still thought the sun was being pulled by a chariot of all things.

Helios was _probably_ just a villain who could create mini suns or something. And the chariot was probably an old school tinkertech antigrav vehicle like the _indestructible shield_ Grandpa even now has strapped to his forearm under the folded sleeves of his button up dress shirt…"

…?

"Grandpa, don't you hate wearing business casual? Or business anything? You hate constrictive clothing." I asked curious.

Tellingly, this is the first time I've ever seen him _look away uncomfortably from anything_ as he fiddles with his tie and collar irritably.

"I have come to learn the girl known as Panacea is employed by this healer's building. Do you know of her?"

Panacea?

"Uh… yeah Grandpa? Why?" What does a member of Guts and Glory have to do with anything?

"Never let her touch you. When I was last wounded in the battle with Khonsu I was teleported to the healer's tent to recover. Before I could finish regenerating my damaged flesh on my own, the girl had placed a hand upon my shoulder and collapsed not a moment later."

"Oh… so… parahumans from our family can't be healed…?"

"I do not know. I only know that after the battle the girl had taken every opportunity she had to come within my space in an attempt to make flesh to flesh contact. Fortunately it seemed to be harmless curiosity on her part that is easily dissuaded when the body is covered." Grandpa finishes with a hint of unease in his voice as I tilt my head. "The youth grow ever bolder it seems in this era. In my youth, the temptation of mystery was entirely vanquished with a fashion of dress that bared the torso for all to see."

"Oh my god. Seriously Grandpa?" I groan rubbing my temples with my hands and attempting to erase the words that came out of the old man's mouth with little success.

Historical accuracy or not, I _did not_ need to see the image of my _grandfather_ frolicking about Sparta with nothing but his underoos!

In response he raises a single, _almost playful_ eyebrow and asks in a questioning manner "Oh? I thought that you did not believe in Gods, granddaughter?"

"Argh!" I turn in my bed flinging forward a sizzling barrage of feints, hooks, and straights at my infuriating _**PARAHUMAN**_ grandfather who easily bats each hand aside with a single one of his own.

"It is no wonder you were defeated by a mere dragon if this is the extent of your hand to hand ability. You need further training." He muses, idly slipping his head past a blow that I _know_ he couldn't see coming from the angle of his vision. "There are still a healthy number of brigands in this city state, yes? Yes, they will be a good tool in honing your martial ability as your father and grandfather have done in their own coming of age quests."

With a loud smack, my right fist stops on a single open palm as my eyes widen and a grin etches itself on my face without permission.

"You'll tell me another story!? Grandpa you have _**the best stories**_!" I crowed in an exuberant manner more similar to a girl ten years my younger.

But I don't care about that.

Grandfather Atreus is _**really good**_ at weaving together tales from his days after he earned his parahuman name, _**Loki**_. He laughed when I asked him if he learned from Great Grandpa before putting me on his lap and _making a dead world come back to life_.

But Grandpa Kratos? He has this way of _**visceral, gut pounding description that makes you feel like you are**_ _**actually in his shoes**_ _**when he tells the truth of his legends.**_

 _ **That of Greece's**_ _**God of War.**_

"One more to placate the ravenous curiosity of my great granddaughter then. When your father Daniel was on the cusp of manhood at twelve winters of age, he, his father, and mother had arrived in my home in the untamed heartland of Alaska where the old creatures and spirits native to the _**New World**_ still flourishes to this day…"


	3. Chapter 2

1.02

* * *

"...and Daniel took his spear, quenched in the still dripping silver blood of the slain wooly unicorn and thrust it deep into the heart of the rabid werewolf at the height of the full moon." Grandfather finished, with closed eyes before breathing deeply. "Mm. Yes. A good hunt despite the deer meat being unfit for consumption due to contamination."

"Uh...huh…" Oh my god. My dad murdered a rabies infected changer when he was twelve years old.

Or maybe it actually was a werewolf.

There are enough creation myths in the world and both of my grandfather's own accounts about creatures existing from folklore that the werewolf in question could have easily been a surviving descendant or creation of the proto Nilbog's that existed thousands of years ago.

Yeah lets go with that.

Having an impossibly specific weakness to the blood of a fairytale creature is specific enough to believe that Unicorns were created as a living countermeasure against overpopulation of power engineered predator species right?

Actually why don't I ask the Grandpa? He was there when ' _the realm of Hades was torn asunder and the dead rose to consume the living'_. A metaphor of course when Grandpa's Uncle apparently unleashed a zombie apocalypse on the world after his death.

"So about werewolves Grandpa… were they… uh… _Gods_ like you or…?" I ask awkwardly, playing with a length of hair with no little embarrassment at choosing to humor the ancient parahuman.

"No. The curse that transforms man into beast is a curse with no single point of origin. Although I would wager that with the weakness to silver, the maddened beast was of a strain from the isles of Albion… or England as you would now call it."

"Oh. Good?"

"Yes. While it would have been easily within mine and your grandfather's power to kill the beast by mundane means, Daniel had only begun to tap into his true nature. It is fortunate that his domain of **The Hunt** allows him to perceive the weaknesses of creatures he sees as prey instinctually." The old spartan nods to himself, before falling back into silence and allowing the ambient noises of the hospital room to take hold again.

It was nice. Grandpa was never one to force a conversation and long silences between us never felt awkward like it must for some people. As it was it gave me a little more time to think about my family and further confirmation on the discoveries I made in deciphering the metaphors and allegories in his story.

I knew this already, but when someone in my family line triggers, we all gain the same basic powerset of an Alexandria package minus the flight with a few added abilities. Drastically increased longevity is an obvious one. It probably stems from the regenerative powers we gain and while it isn't _perfect_ given the fact that Grandpa looks like he's well into middle age, I'll probably live long enough to see a few _eons_ if something doesn't kill me. Another power that is apparently unique to Grandpa's line is the anime style breaker powerup we get when something _really makes us mad_.

I used it for the first time last night, although I'm _probably_ the only person in our family who passed out from the experience.

 _Or rather I'll tell everyone else it was because I used the last of my strength to punch out lung before falling heroically, but that's a minor issue._

Lastly, I'm _probably_ going to grow into another power as I get older according to history and what my family tells me. Like how dad is _really good at hunting_ , or how Grandpa Atreus makes Myrddin look like a chump, or how Grandpa Kratos can _**kill Endbringers even if it shouldn't be possible for him to do so.**_

What's crazy is how this powerset was _**common**_ back in the days of ancient parahumans where almost everyone was apparently an old age villain. There's theories flying left and right about _why_ powers began so stably and powerfully only to end up in the state they're in now.

As in how _random_ they can be.

Did powers devolve or evolve into what they are now? Did the ancient parahumans all descend from a single line when humanity left Africa? Could Scion be the first parahuman who was born in a time before written history? What of the Endbringers?

The ones Grandpa Kratos and the other parahumans of his time didn't already slay anyway.

 _And the way Grandpa tells it, the Titans_ _ **were**_ _a thing_ _ **and they birthed the original members of the Greek pantheon**_ _._

 _Are parahumans the product of an ancient Endbringer?_

Who knows?

Questions. Always more questions that not even Grandpa can truly answer. Not that I didn't _try_.

" _The Gods have always existed Taylor. I know of none who live that recall a time before. Nor do I care. Some things in life are best left unknown." A rough, calloused hand lightly patted me on the head as gently as if I were a tiny kitten._

He had told me this years ago when I was a kid and as long as I have known him, Grandpa Kratos was anything _but_ a liar.

" _It isn't in his nature to hold anything back."_ Grandpa Atreus had told me fondly in remembrance while we watched the stars together several years ago. " _I taught him that when I was your age."_

Even if he _is_ adamant about not adapting to modern terminology, he's my great grandpa Kratos. There's no one wiser that I know.

 _He's right really. All I'm doing now is thinking in circles like I always do._

With a burst of concentration I focus on **being whole** for several moments. Like a rippling lake, what wounds I still had remaining fade away and I look up at my grandfather with an arrogant smirk. "Bet I can finish off a Challenger at Bob's faster than you can Grandpa."

At my statement, Grandpa raises an eyebrow and his beard tugs upward the slightest bit.

"And with what gold would you be using to pay for the hamburgers and oiled potatoes when I take hold of your 'allowance'?" He asks, putting his palm up and standing. "It would be best for you to relinquish your funds now. I will be generous and pay for half of the meal, for I believe we are now required to pay the owner of the establishment regardless of how fast we consume our lunch."

Rolling my eyes, I accept the token gesture of money pinching for what it really is and place my hand gracefully on top of his with an offended noise more likely to come out of my best friend's nose than mine.

No, seriously. The Challenger special doesn't apply to my family anymore. There's even a picture of me, my grandfathers, my dad, my mom, and Ems up on the wall at Fugly Bob's on top of everyone else's photos.

Although if I'm being truthful Emma would _probably_ wretch instead of delicately snorting if she found out my Grandpa and I were gonna go to Bob's place.

Coincidentally the day we got the picture taken was the first time I ever had to hold Emma's hair back while she was emptying her stomach in the toilet. She uh, didn't do well that time we snuck into Grandpa Atreus' stash of mead either.

Or at her first house party. Or the second.

My friend isn't a lush! She just has a frail constitution!

…

I should probably call her. She'd be fine going to Bob's if she didn't make herself eat an entire Challenger right?

"Hey Grandpa? Is it cool if Emma comes with us?" I ask, holding onto his hand more than I really need to.

Of course Grandpa doesn't complain or do anything to push me away.

He's an old sweetheart like that. He treats Mom with great care too.

…

I bump Grandpa's side and lean against him.

He never speaks about it, but I've read the myths. A single passage that is barely mentioned in any of the books I have read.

 _And thus the Spartan was happy, ever dreaming of returning home to his loving wife Lysandra and their innocent daughter, Calliope._

 _What happened to them?_

"The fae blooded girl? Grandpa asks, pushing aside my thoughts. "You will be paying for her share as well then."

"Grandpa! Seriously!?" I cried out doing my best to puppy dog him in a fruitless endeavor, slapping his shoulder to show my disapproval at his 'racism'.

I have **no earthly idea** what he has against redheads.

What does he even mean by fae-blooded, I have no idea what that metaphor is meant to describe-

As we open to the door to my room on the way out, a tall, armored figure with the most **amazingly groomed beard** stands tall and proud before us.

Next to him stands Mouse Protector her arm held out in a heroic pose, so still she doesn't look like she's breathing!

Mr. Wallis? What was he doing here? Er, Armsmaster I mean.

"Hi Armsmaster. What's good in the hood?" Oh god.

Taylor.

Really?

 **Do not embarrass yourself in front of your man crush!**

 **Not man crush. Teacher. Person. At school. Who is the archetypical handsome knight in futuristic shining armor by night. Or sometimes day.**

"Everyone not in the ABB apparently." Armsmaster replies without pause, nodding in my direction with a small smile before he resumes his persona of rigidly immovable justice!

So cool!

So witty!

So awesome!

"Behemoth." He says, looking forward and straight up into the eyes of Grandpa without fear!

"Colin." Grandpa replies with an approving nod!

The two men spend several seconds trading an unknown message before Armsmaster produces a set of documents and holds them out for Grandpa to take. "The intelligence we have on the ABB's holdings and territory updated as of ten minutes ago."

"Good." Grandpa nods in satisfaction as we walk down the hall.

I barely manage to turn towards Armsmaster and muster the courage to wave shyly.

Armsmaster's head moves down and up once before he wordlessly turns away, placing his arm over the stoic form of Mouse Protector before walking back down the hall in companionable silence!

Ahhhhh! I wanna be cool and have an awesome buddy cop, but possibly romantically inflamed dynamic like those two!

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AN: More to be uploaded on ff later. Check me out on SV under the same username for the fully updated story with a bunch of additional content :3


	4. Chapter 3

AN: Where this is originally posted on Sufficient Velocity there are multiple spoilered images meant to act as a slideshow. I'll do my best to translate that to text for the FF version of this story, but to get the full impact I highly recommend reading the original for maximum Kratos. Again, there's loads of additional content there to include up to date chapters, PRT Threat Ratings, canon lore omakes, fan omakes, as well as an expanded timeline that updates periodically with worldbuilding.

Anyway, onwards with the story :3

* * *

1.03 Interlude (Emily Piggot)

" _Director. Behemoth is now on the move with subject Despoina. From the recorded conversation it appears as if they are making for the family restaurant, Fugly Bob's."_ The tinkertech earbud transmits Armsmaster's voice directly into my ear as I look over the documentation Hannah had prepared in advance all through the morning for the coming meeting.

He pauses for a long moment and the communications band wrapped around Mouse Protector's throat audibly records her timely swallow.

" _Do we pursue?"_

"Negative Armsmaster. We were only there with information to placate Behemoth and limit the fallout. As planned we have teams ready to move to cordon off the areas when he makes his move. What of Despoina's father? Was he receptive?"

" _Ullr and his wife have likewise left the building and seem to be on their way home. While implications were made that we would be glad to have Despoina as part of the Wards program, we agreed on no further discussion until Despoina herself was addressed by Ullr after she has fully recovered."_ Armsmaster coughs to himself before continuing. " _We will likely not have a concrete answer until the criminal portion of the ABB is dismantled as an organization. It appears that the Chief Director's recollections of his youthful trial by fire were not fanciful tales if Behemoth's recounting of Ullr's first outing as a parahuman is any indication."_

Yes. Having met Chief Director Atreus Kratosson myself I know how he can spin even the most mundane story into a fanciful adventure straight out of a Brother's Grimm fairytale. Despite him being a powerful parahuman who has lived since nearly a century before the _calendar changed_ , he acts more like a manchild stuck in his early twenties.

 _Dear God. What does it say I'd rather my irritating and annoying Boss would've been the one to visit Brockton rather than his sensible and quiet father?_

I glance at my screen currently displaying the PRT's current threat assessment regarding Kratos Tispartis.

* * *

 **Name:** Kratos Tispartis, Kratos of Sparta

 **Codename: Behemoth, Greek God of War**

 **Classification :** Mover 6, Shaker 9, Brute 10, Breaker 10, Tinker 0 (9), Blaster 9, Thinker 6, Striker 16, Stranger 1

 **Disposition:** Independant Hero (?)

 **Location:** Wiseman, Alaska

 **General information:** Behemoth is a parahuman born 350-340 BC in the ancient Greek city state of Sparta (Think Tank Proven). He is a figure from greek myth erroneously known as the personification of power. In truth he was known as the God of War usurping the position from the previous parahuman known as Ares. Our investigations conclude that he is the son of the parahuman Zeus and a human woman named Callisto. He has lived for over two millennia and has traveled throughout the world battling other ancient parahumans and biotinker creations during several historical events before fading from history until recently to do battle with the Endbringer Behemoth upon its arrival in New York on March 26th, 1994.

The parahuman Behemoth dispatched his namesake within an hour of arrival before agreeing to an interview by his son, then NY Deputy Director of the PRT Atreus Kratosson. The revelation of Behemoth's origins caused a fire in the historical and parahuman community causing further turmoil as written history and the 'recent' discovery of parahumans was overturned.

Behemoth continues to participate in Endbringer fights with dozens of Thinkers ruling that his presence alone has caused the rate of their attacks to slow despite the increased rate new Endbringers are showing themselves. He has thus far been instrumental in minimizing total deaths as in every battle he has appeared he has either personally killed or forcibly driven off Endbringer after Endbringer without the assistance of Scion.

 **Endbringer Kills:**

Behemoth

Leviathan? (Unconfirmed. Core Damaged. Vanished after Kyushu sinking.)

Khonsu

Bohu

Kraken

Bahamut

 **Personality:** Behemoth is quiet and wishes to be left alone. Those who have spoken with him at length note that he has a deep philosophical side and believes in the separation between ancient parahumans and the current age of humanity to include modern day parahumans. He is slow to anger and otherwise harmless to the average person unless he is actively antagonized upon which he will respond with debilitating violence that requires extended treatment in a medical facility.

 **Powers:**

Mover 6: His enhanced physiology allows Behemoth to move at speeds upwards of 85 mph, leap multiple stories, and has been known to be able to 'double jump' or even glide vast distances with ancient tinkertech wings. Walls do not tend to be an impediment to his movement.

Shaker 9: Has shown the ability to channel multiple destructive elements including lightning, hurricane force winds, fire, and includes other esoteric effects such as pulling out what can only be described as _souls_ out of the bodies of his enemies. What is more several of his weapons have shown to have their own Shaker effects to cleave or smash aside obstacles. Upon death, creatures in his immediate area will also drop glowing orbs that seem to empower Behemoth.

Brute 10: While he can be hurt out of his Breaker state, Behemoth's maximum strength is favorably comparable to that of Alexandria smashing into an Endbringer at full speed. His longevity can be attributed to his regeneration ability that brings him back to full health after a short moment of concentration.

Breaker 10: Taking the form of flames erupting from Behemoth's body, he gains exceptionally increased strength, speed, and is all but _invulnerable_ in this state. It is unknown how long he can maintain this form.

Tinker 0 (9): While it does not seem that he has any ability to manufacture tinkertech on his own, Behemoth carries with him an astonishing array of esoteric weaponry that seemingly needs little to no repair and are capable of effects that match or exceed that of modern tinkertech weaponry and armor.

Blaster 9: Stemming more from his equipment, Behemoth's array of Blaster powers include being able to turn opponents into stone, hurling bolts of photons with similar composition to what is theorized to make up stars, and more.

Thinker 6: It is unknown whether Behemoth truly has a Thinker rating, however his multiple lifetimes worth of combat experience makes him thus far unbeatable in personal combat. Enough so that many Combat Thinkers are unable to put up a fight.

Striker 16: Endbringer cores are the most durable materials known to mankind as they are so dense that they break the laws of physics. Behemoth is able to reach and _destroy_ these cores with his weapons and once with his bare hands.

Stranger 1: While it is impossible to miss Behemoth when he is walking down the street, this rating was given only because he has been able to stay hidden from the world for at _least_ several hundred years without being noticed.

 **Recommended Strategies :** _ **Do not approach. Do not attempt conversation. Do not engage.**_

* * *

 _Right. That._

I have to bite down on the urge to go for the bottle of brandy hidden under my desk as I reply and attempt to keep the growing migraine under control.

"I see. Good work Armsmaster, Mouse Protector. Send myself and the Thinker department a copy of the conversation and we'll go over it once more when you arrive." I nod towards Miss Militia and towards the rest of the Protectorate members not in the know who arrive followed by the entirety of the Wards. "We will continue this conversation when you return, Piggot out."

The urge to sigh, grumble, and take the day off to hit the gym for a few hours grows as I see the Wards fidgeting and grumbling about being pulled out of whatever activities they were conducting on the weekend. More when I see the obviously hungover forms of Triumph, Velocity, and Assault who is weakly groaning and waving away a grinning Battery.

Ethan's whimpers in the face of his wife flicking his temple as it remains burrowed in his arms brings enough good humor to my horrifying day that I'm able to crush down the temptation of cutting and running to take a seat at the head of the desk.

"Thank you all for arriving so promptly. Now that we are all here we can begin the meeting. Miss Militia?"

"Director." The Protectorate team leader of Brockton Bay nods her head professionally and turns to the holographic display in the middle of the table. "As all of you are aware, there was a parahuman battle that took place at the docks between an… 'unknown' parahuman and Lung where the enforcer of the ABB was sent fleeing back to his territory."

"Sent flying you mean?" Assault just barely manages to keep from grunting at the elbow Battery so kindly pushes into his side as he leans up from his formerly pathetic position and places his jaw in his hands playfully. "I hear ol' girl took one from her old man's books and knocked Lung back into Asiatown like he did with Crawler way back when."

At this Hannah sighs to herself and points at the upraised hand of Carlos when he raises his hand as several of the Protectorate members in the know grinned and chuckled.

I have to hide my own at the memory of Ullr, who while not matching the victories of his grandfather, has more than a few notable accomplishments to his name.

I'd probably be dead and buried along with the rest of Ellisburg if not.

"So we _know_ who this mystery parahuman is?" Aegis asks putting his hand down, glancing around the table with a raised brow.

The scarf wearing woman nods, swiping a hand across the holographic display to the next slide, showing the Capebook profile picture of a certain local celebrity.

The results from most of the Wards are rather immediate and expected given that they go to school with her in Arcadia.

" _ **TAYLOR!?"**_

Various voices alternatively shout or mumble in disbelief (Aegis), shock (Vista), dumbfounded realization (Kid Win), a smug eyeroll (Shadow Stalker), a grumbling exchange of money (Gallant), and a facepalm (Clock- _**Dennis**_ ).

"Told ya it was her." Shadow Stalker laughs, smugly grinning with her mask and hood resting on top of her head as she counts several twenty dollar bills.

"Yeah, yeah, stuff it Sophia." Gallant grunts, tossing his empty wallet onto the table. "Uuuugh… _how_!? You don't even go to _school with her_!"

"So? You know we hang out Feelz boy. You get brought over by Glory on girls nights enough to know."

I raise an eyebrow at the exchange, glancing at Hannah who nods with a small smile uncovered by the star spangled bandana pulled down around her neck.

My newest (hopefully soon to be second newest) Ward's been making friends.

Huh.

"Cut the chatter kids. Militia, you got more stuff to chew on?" Rory smirks with a grin as he playfully rubs Dennis' hair, pulling up his lion helmet over his head so the motion can't be returned.

"Dude! You're like, a _year_ older than me!" Dennis growls, batting the older teen's hands off with both of his skinny arms.

"Ahem." Hannah clears her throat with a crinkle of her eyes before moving on. "Now normally we wouldn't be so open with Despoina's identity, we all know she waived her rights away and has been jumping rooftops in Brockton for _years_ now. Much like her father, grandfather, and _great grandfather_."

Several heads tilt in response as more than a few Wards begin to do the math in their heads as do a few of the younger Protectorate members not in the know.

The next slide shows the image of Daniel Hebert, a grizzled and handsome middle aged man who wouldn't be out of place in Cosmopolitan's top ten most desirable gentlemen. The following information in comparison contains well known information about his PRT affiliated Hero persona by the name of Ullr.

The latest photo shows a picture of the man in a modernized cowboy costume that wouldn't look out of place in a fantasy western where the hero would 'wrastle' Graboids for fun.

…

Something he has apparently done in one of his 'monster hunts' across the United States during his day job as a contracted 'problem solver' regarding rogue ancient biotinker creations.

"That's… really odd isn't it? Isn't Mr. H like, in his forties?" Missy tilts her head, pointing up at the slide now showing Daniel Hebert's picture. "Powers only started appearing again in the mid eighties and older people don't usually _trigger_. Not that Mr. H _looks_ like he's forty…"

"Excellent observation Vista, and you would be correct in most cases. However…" The olive skinned woman looks my way for confirmation and I nod.

The next slide is a picture of the Chief Director of the PRT both in and out of costume and the mood within the room quickly changes from piqued curiosity to something close to horrifically awed realization.

The next set of pictures shows the PRT's Chief Director, Loki Kratosson in his everyday business casual. A mild looking man wearing glasses and a sweater vest whose fiery red hair and facial tattoos are overshadowed by his soft smile.

The second picture however, shows the form of a significantly different man whose glowing eyes and hair flowing with eldritch power leaks a dangerous, carnal intensity.

Loki, arguably the most powerful parahuman employed by the PRT and much like his father before him, a mythical figure of legend who has shaped the course of history through his very existence.

"I don't have to explain who _this person_ is, now do I?" Hannah chuckles to herself as the dots visibly begin to connect in several widening eyes and paling faces. "It isn't exactly a secret, but we don't advertise that _**Loki**_ is _**Ullr's**_ Father."

"Holy fucking shit." Sophia whispers, shakily bringing a finger up to point at the display while everyone else watches on in various states of amusement or broken voice boxes. "That means…"

One by one, Hannah slowly goes through the slides of various Endbringer battles Behemoth has been part of.

* * *

 **Bahamut: KIA**

 **Kraken: KIA**

* * *

Some he has _**killed**_.

Others. He has driven away time and again.

* * *

 **Titan: Active**

 **Grootslang: Active**

 **Hydra: Active**

 **Iya: Active**

 **Ra: Active**

* * *

Until finally, there is only a single slide left. A photo of a _living God who stands next to Scion._

 _Perhaps even_ _ **above him.**_

* * *

 **Behemoth. Kratos of Sparta.**

* * *

"It's as you say. Despoina's great grandfather is the _Ancient Parahuman_ , _**Behemoth**_. Otherwise known as _**Kratos. The God of War.**_ " The PRT team leader says with a beaming smile followed by a picture of the ABB's territories that have been crossed out ahead of time.

"We're telling you this information now because after hearing that Despoina was recovering in the hospital from the aftermath of her battle with Lung, _**Behemoth is here**_." _Miss Militia_ narrows her eyes, staring deeply in the eyes of the suddenly stilled Wards and younger Protectorate members, weapon changing several times at her side. "We'll be going over his capabilities shortly, but I don't think I need to tell you to _**stay out of his way while he's here on 'business' with**_ _**the ABB-**_ "

A long, drawn out scream emerges, centering on Sophia who quickly pulls out her her phone with a wary look at Hannah's weapon which has just transformed into an M240B machine gun.

I myself barely manage to hold my sigh in as several grins light up on the faces of my 'great heroes'.

"Sorry, forgot to turn it off…" Sophia grumbles with a cowed frown before her fingers freeze and her face pales. "Oh shit."

"Something wrong Stalker…?" Dean raises a surprised eyebrow before leaning in to see the message on her _civilian phone_ and freezing himself.

?

Confusion appears on the maskless faces of all present when Dean robotically pulls the phone out from the unresisting fingers of the dark costumed teenager. Looking to see where this is going, nobody says anything when the armored empath turns the bluetooth on and waves the phone at the display…

 _Oh._

* * *

 _ **Messages from Fairy Tale**_

 _Hey_

 _Tay's out of the hospital_

 _We gonna get lunch at fuglys with her grandpa_

 _U wanna come?_

 _Grandpa Kray's really cool_

 _Hey_

 _U there?_

 _I'll save you a seat_

* * *

"... I get sick days on probation right?"


	5. Chapter 4

1.04

It doesn't take long at all to reach Fugly Bob's. Grandpa and I even made a game of it by running and jumping over buildings with the caveat that I took as few leaps as possible and took more time in the air than I did running along the ground.

I was more than game to show him how far along I'd 'grown into godhood' and had even made my personal best so far!

 _Crack!_

I wince as the pavement of the parking lot under my sneaker covered feet crunches into gravel and spreads a large spider web of cracks running along the way too soft pavement. It's _probably_ a good thing most buildings are insured against parahuman powers in Brockton otherwise I'd probably be extending my usual month long job in the summer another few weeks depending on how many treasure sites were still marked on the multitude of maps in Grandpa Atreus' office.

Grandpa Kratos of course, _doesn't care about property damage_ and **crashes** his polished dress shoes through the soft concrete into the softer earth below it. Several car alarms in the parking lot we landed in go off as the two of us make our way inside.

I wave shyly at the curious onlookers along with the raised brows of the regulars and workers at Bob's place at the abnormally _loud_ landing.

 _Yeaaaaah. Totally gonna have to take another two weeks off July to make ends meet._

The proprietor of the burger joint, Bob rolls his eyes and barks out to his cooks in the back for two orders of _Challenger's_ to be made as Grandpa and I slide into a nearby booth.

Knowing that the food is going to take a while to finish I tilt my head at Grandpa and place my elbow on the table, hand open in a questioning gesture.

The old Spartan raises an eyebrow, asking if I'm ready.

I nod and Grandpa returns it. He rolls up the sleeves of his dress shirt and places a far larger, _much more muscular arm_ on top of the table and _**grips**_ my hand in his.

A moment later at an unseen, but wholly felt signal, the muscles in my arm _**clench and I push with everything I've got in an effort to slam my great grandfather's hand into the reinforced table!**_

To my surprise and that of Grandpa's, his arm is pushed back a tiny, _**insignificant**_ measure of distance.

 _ **I moved him.**_

 _ **I fucking moved him!**_

Excited beyond belief at the furthest I've ever been able to push Grandpa Kratos in an arm wrestling match, I stand up fully and push _**all of my weight onto my arm in an effort to topple to invincible giant whose gait I've been stumbling behind ever since I was just a little girl.**_

But beyond what little ground I've gained, I don't move another millimeter more.

The table tinkertech reinforced table groans. The condiment holder to our side _shudders_ from the sheer level of strength I'm putting out as my muscles tremble and push forward with every bit of car tossing strength I can _muster_.

But Grandpa _doesn't move_. Neither does he _push back_.

I can feel it though. The small amount of amusement mixed with a healthy does of pride behind flesh and blood hand that has brought Endbringers to their _knees_ in their boundless fury.

 _I can do it._

 _I can push further._

 _I. Just. Need._ _ **To D**_ _ **O IT-**_

"Hi Taylor! Hey Grandpa Kray!" Emma says, sidling up next to me with a sharp toothed grin.

"Emma!?" I squawk out in surprise. Surprise that Grandpa takes advantage with an amused huff by bringing the full force of his greatly reserved strength to bare and begins to slowly pushes my hand down towards the table! "W-wait! Grandpa that's not-"

Time doesn't slow down. There's no epic music or sound effect in the background when the back of my hand gently presses down against the wood of the table. There isn't even a slow-mo moment where my voice is distorted and my hand rebounds once against the table with a resounding _boom_.

Nope.

Grandpa easily and nonchalantly wins our arm wrestling contest with as much control he would use as he would in handling a newborn baby.

Thanks Grandpa. Save some of my dignity on the side of the table for me to wipe away with a napkin why don't you.

"Emmmmaaaaa! Why!? I almost had him!" I grouch, growling and playfully shoving my shoulder against the shorter girl who squeaks and nearly falls over on her side before I catch her around the waist.

"Didn't look any different from usual to me. You sure you don't have a concussion?" Emma frowns faux cutely and looks up at me from her position relaxing against my arm with doe like concern. "You didn't hit your head or anything did you? You at least remember my birthday right?"

Narrowing my eyes in irritation, I huff and let her go to fall side first against the cushions of the long bench with a soft 'oomph'. "Dumb bitch."

"Pff. Rude ass cunt." She replies as we glare at one another heatedly.

Then we burst into _giggles_ and she pushes herself back up so we're sitting shoulder to shoulder.

Kicking her legs underneath the table, Emma quirks her head and smiles at Grandpa, leaning forward to place her cheeks in her hands with a soft pout. "Grandpa Kray, you didn't tell stories about the old days without me there did you?"

"I did." He grunts as my best friend pouts _more_. "I suspect that you wish for me to tell _more stories_."

"Mhm."

"Did your grandmother not tell you it was the height of foolishness to antagonize gods, girl?"

"She did."

"And?" _Somehow_ , Emma's eyes grow wider and wetter than I thought possible without _actually_ shedding any real tears.

"Your stories are way better than hers are…?" Her head lolls to the side when I pinch her cheek and pull it my way.

Ignoring me, my friend continues to speak anyway.

"Grandma'sh shtories are all, ' _Ye ain't na thar Emma! Ireland was our baile gel, get themsh fashiful shtories out yer 'ead!_ ' But you were actually _**there**_ in the Barne's family homeland before we were Barnes, back when our clan name was still _Byname_!" Emma speaks quickly and excitedly, completely ignoring how far I was pulling her cheek and exposing her disturbingly sharp canines and incisors into view.

"You know, you're awful curious about history when you're barely passing it with a C- as it is Ems." I grumble, letting go when it becomes apparent she's less concerned about the growing pinkish tinge on her right cheek then continuing to fish for information.

She scoffs in reply, glancing at me like I was the _dumbest person in the world_ before replying. "And you're a _baby goddess_ that **refuses** to understand the _**real history**_ of the world! Seriously Tay, that guy, sitting there right in front of us? You know, your _**great grandfather**_? He's the _**God of War**_! How do you still believe that stuff about _ancient parahumans_ and all that mumbo jumbo _denial about the truth!_ " Emma growls, turning to me and tilting her head so that her left cheek rests on a single hand while staring at me with a pity filled gaze.

"I mean c'mon, I don't even have a full _quarter_ of the old blood that you do, and you _still_ believe that 'historical accuracy' shit."

I sigh in response, placing my hand on the slightly younger girl's shoulder and give her the best understanding look that I can. "It's okay Emma. There are no such things as _gods_. You'll understand and regain your common sense and belief in the science like every other level headed person in the world.

In return, Emma rolls her eyes to give up our age old argument as a lost cause before looking at my great grandfather with an expression full of despair and dull acceptance.

"You know I'm _trying_ to help her as much as myself here Grandpa Kray. Not like I know any big _Alf Trylleformular_ that can show her stuff. I'm not even sure if that last bit _translates right_ from old norse to modern norwegian." Emma grumbles with a halfhearted sigh, looking at the waitress who has just arrived and tapping a well manicured and _sharp_ fingernail on the menu to signify her order.

"Seidr."

"Seid...er?" At my side, Emma _immediately_ perks up bouncing in her seat twice as her expression changes so fast to excited that I can barely comprehend it.

"Seidr is not a direct translation, but it means _sorcery_ and _witchcraft_ in the old northern tongue." Grandpa explains as I groan and watch as he once more decides to indulge in Emma's curiosity.

"Do you know any…?"

"My son is more versed in the ancient arts and lore than I. He would likely know more." Grandpa explains and Emma crumbles in on herself.

"Oh…"

Just a little.

Still enough to make me uncomfortable and kick Grandpa under the table while nodding towards my friend with a very _small_ glare.

I love Grandpa too much for anything more.

It's still enough though. The so called _God of War_ grunts in annoyance.

He's always been soft on girls. Doubly so for 'children'.

I nudge Emma, pushing her cheek with a finger towards the… _**runes**_ Grandpa was _**carving**_ in the air with a butter knife.

Cold blue symbols hung, burning in the air as he painstakingly carves the small series of power enhanced letters… "Kraku Lio." And whispers the words as he taps on the finished product in the center with the edge of his comically undersized knife.

Emma watches with wide eyed fascination as what look to be _**brightly shining fireflies**_ float outwards and around the table for several seconds before flying off to fade away just as they brush past Sophia's surprised and _frozen_ face-

Oh!

"Hi Sophia! Grandpa, this is Sophia! She's a friend of ours!"

"Yes. I noticed. She has been standing next to our table for some time." The old man nods as he carefully swats away the slowly disintegrating remains of the rune from the air. "Will you not move so your friend can sit comfortably with you?"

Oh, right-

Before I can do more than lift my butt up to scootch inwards towards the wall, Emma _**leaps up, grasps a startled Sophia and pulls them both in to crash against my shoulder to scrunch the three of us way more tightly into the booth then we needed to be!**_

"Em-"

"Shush! Zip it! No talking!" She turns my way and _**glares**_ stopping my protest before it finishes forming and turning back to Sophia whose angry glare is _**very quickly convinced to look a full 180 away from Emma's far too wide smile**_.

"So Grandpa Kray!" Emma eagerly grins, pulling out a sketchbook and a pencil to quickly recreate the design my great grandfather had just so recently created. "Like this right? What does it mean?"

"That would be better explained by my son. I do not have a full understanding of the spell."

"Spell?" Sophia _gulps_ , glancing my way as I roll my eyes and looking at Emma with no little trepidation as her eyes _**gleam hungrily**_ in the fluorescent lighting of Fugly Bob's.

"...but…?" As always, Emma is exceedingly fast at grasping even Grandpa's communicational tells.

"I will tell you a story. Perhaps you will be able to glean more information than I."

"Oh, oh! Story time! Yuss!" Emma cries, preemptively shushing both me and Sophia with a pencil and notebook to our lips respectively. "Ahem, I mean, please continue Grandpa Kray! You have the _**best stories!**_ "

Grandpa's beard tugs upwards slightly, huffing out a small snort of amusement as he begins his tale while we wait for our orders.

"This story begins in the realm of _**Alfheim**_ , the realm of the _**Alfr**_ and of the light that nourished the budding roots of the world tree before the nine realms fell from the sky and set roots deep into the world of our planet…"


End file.
